Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.

Missing someone is the worst feeling in the world

Without you here, the sun forgets to shine.

Missing someone is not about how long it has been since you have seen them or the amount of time since you have talked…it is about that very moment when you are doing something and wishing they were there with you.

Just because you miss someone doesn’t mean you need them back in your life. Missing is just a part of moving on.

Missing u is my way of loving u.

Missing you is flashes of our past and fantasies of our future with the hard irony of the absence of our present as present occurs.

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.

But nothing makes a room feel emptier than wanting someone in it.

Losing people you love affects you. It is buried inside of you and becomes this big, deep hole of ache. It doesn’t magically go away, even when you stop officially mourning.

Missing someone gets easier every day because even though it’s one day further from the last time you saw each other, it’s one day closer to the next time you will.

Missing someone is your heart’s way of reminding you, that you love them.

I miss him for all the things he forgot to see in himself & if I’m lucky fate will help us rekindle a flame that never got set alight in the first place.

Each time I miss you, a star falls down from the sky. So, if you looked up at the sky and found it dark with no stars, it is all your fault. You made me miss you too much!

The only thing missing from your life is what you’re failing to bring to it.

If you wanna know how much I miss you, try to catch rain drops, the ones you catch is how much you miss me, & the other you miss is how much I miss you.

Missing you every day is part of loving you, and loving you that makes me miss you every day.

Sometimes what you miss the most is the way a loved one made you feel about yourself.

For as long as the world spins and the earth is green with new wood, she will lie in this box and not in my arms.